Gladioli in August (7 page)

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Authors: Clare Revell

Tags: #christian Fiction

BOOK: Gladioli in August
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“Something like that.” He shoved the tissue into his shirt pocket. “We should get on.” He started the plane. “Would you like to have dinner tonight?”

“Dinner?” She sounded almost as surprised he'd asked as he was.

“Yeah, as in a meal. Out somewhere, not in the canteen with everyone else.”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

He tilted his head. That hadn't been his intention, but why not? It seemed right. He liked her and wanted to spend time in a non-work context with her. Get to know her better. “Yeah. You and me on a dinner date.”

“Sure.”

Her smile made his broken heart sing. He wasn't his father. Perhaps letting someone in wouldn't be a bad thing after all.

Micah returned the smile. “About seven. Give us time to get back and change.” He accelerated and the plane hurtled down the path and took off, soaring into the blue sky, which for the first time in a long time didn't mask the clouds in his soul.

5

Jael glanced out of the window as the plane flew towards the base. Her thoughts had done nothing but whirl ever since Micah had suggested dinner and then called it a date. A date. Was she ready for this? After all, she'd promised herself she wasn't going to be distracted by anyone. She'd seen the agonies Kyle went through after Jayne died, and the way her mother's death had all but destroyed her father. There was no way she was going to open herself up to that kind of hurt. No matter how happy Kyle was now with Holly.

But, here she was, willingly putting herself in the path of possible heartache. And with Micah—the bloke she'd once termed the most annoying man on the face of the planet. He wasn't what any magazine would immediately classify as husband material, but when she was with him, her heart beat a little faster. He was always clean and tidy and had bothered with aftershave, rather than just shaving and rushing out the door. His clothes were always ironed, and she assumed he did them himself. And his glasses, far from hiding his eyes, accentuated the beautiful grey-blue of them.

The plane banked over the base. The building below them was moving. “Micah…”

He glanced sideways. “What?”

“Look…” She pointed as one of the older storage sheds on the edge of the compound caved in on itself in a pile of debris and dust. “What's going on? Is it an earthquake?”

“Yeah, and it's a bad one by the looks of it.” He circled for a couple of minutes until it looked as though the building had stopped moving. Then he guided the plane onto the runway, the landing bumpier than normal. The plane swayed for several moments before it stopped.

They both unbuckled in an instant and ran to the main building. The place was a mess with toppled bookcases, broken vases, and dust everywhere. The sound of the TV playing came from the main room and Jael followed Micah, her shorter legs ensuring she arrived a few seconds after him.

Danny looked at them. “A five-point-four according to the USGS announcement,” he said. “Epicenter was roughly a hundred fifty miles from here. They issued a tsunami warning, but not for us.” He smiled at Jael, making her wonder if she looked as freaked out as she felt. “Don't look so worried. This happens a lot.”

“OK. I need to go contact Kyle, assuming the internet is still up and running. He'll be worried.” She headed down to the computer room, her heart pounding and her stomach tied in knots. She was glad she'd been in the air when it happened, as being in an earthquake wasn't on her bucket list. She sat by the computer and rapidly tapped an e-mail to her brother. She red flagged it, as then he'd be sure to read it quickly.

Getting up, Jael headed into the office. The vase of flowers Kyle had sent was on the floor. The crystal vase had shattered into several pieces. She dropped to her knees and began to pick up the shards.

“Let me help.” Micah knelt beside her.

“Thanks.” She sucked in a deep breath. “So, is Danny right? Does this happen a lot?”

Micah shook his head. “Occasionally. We're on a seismically active part of the planet here. But then Danny's from California, so he's used to the earth moving, and unless it's a six or above, he insists it's a ‘little one' and doesn't count.” He picked up the flowers. “Gladioli, right?”

“Yeah. Kyle sent fake ones as the real ones wouldn't travel so well.” She took them, warmth shooting up her fingers as Micah's hand touched hers. She bit her lip and shoved the flowers into a steel jug.

“I would have thought you'd be a rose or carnation girl,” he said.

“Flowers are flowers.” Jael set the jug back on the desk.

“So why gladioli?”

She bit her lip again. He just wasn't going to drop it, was he? “You really want to know?”

He helped her up but didn't let go of her hand. His thumb brushed over the back of it before his fingers laced into hers. “That's why I asked,” he said, holding her gaze.

“My mother loved them. She grew them in the garden and the house was always full of them. Her name was Gladys.”

“Almost the same.” He paused. “Was? Past tense?”

“She died when I was fifteen. Cancer. That's why I'm a nurse.” Her cheeks burned. “She even named me after the flowers.”

There was a distinct twinkle in Micah's eyes. “Seriously? Your name is Gladioli?”

She held his gaze, daring him to laugh. “Jael Gladioli, yeah. Not that I've ever told anyone. Not sure why I told you, actually.”

Micah winked. “At least you're not named after some obscure Old Testament prophet.”

“Who, I hasten to add, gets a mention at every single carol service each Christmas.”

“True.”

She tilted her head. “And you're not named after some obscure woman whose only claim to fame is murdering a king by shoving a tent peg through his head.”

He grinned. “A king he may have been, but he certainly didn't act like one, and therefore deserved everything he had coming.”

“I guess so.” She glanced at the clock. “I should go and shower and change.”

“Me too.” He winked. “But not in the same one. I'll meet you by the truck just before seven.”

****

Micah was at the truck in plenty of time. His tie was tight in his collar and he loosened the top button of his shirt. He rolled his sleeves above his elbows. Did he have time to go and change to a short sleeved one?

At that moment, Jael came out of the door. Wow. Long, dark curls hung over her shoulders, framing her face. The red dress clung to her form and showed her in an entirely different light. The top of the bodice and sleeves were some kind of lace. The rest of the dress was some kind of shiny fabric and—

Wow. Just wow. His heart pounded, his pulse raced and his stomach did a series of cartwheels. What had to be more than mere physical attraction surged through him. At least he hoped so. Because otherwise he'd be shallow and not fit to be seen with her. As it was all he wanted to do was show her off and enjoy every second the Lord gave him with her. Walking, talking, maybe even having a quiet time together?

“Am I overdressed?”

He realized his mouth was open and he was gaping at her. He covered it with a yawn. “Not at all. You look lovely.”

Her smile lit her eyes. “Thank you. So do you.”

“I look lovely?” Micah's jaw dropped, more than a little taken aback. No one had ever called him that before. In fact he doubted any bloke in the history of the planet had ever been called lovely before.

Jael winked. “Yup. Lovely. Are we walking? Although if you're tired, we can take a raincheck.”

“Not too tired to spend time with you. I was going to drive.”

“It's a lovely evening and it isn't far. Let's walk. We've been sitting in a plane most of the day.”

“Sure.” He folded his jacket over his arm and walked with her. His hand hung inches from hers. “Have you been into town yet?”

“Only to the post office. I keep meaning to go, but never get there.”

“You should. And definitely see the church while you're there. It's one of the oldest buildings in Achor. The stained glass window and view from the top of the tower are worth it just for themselves, never mind the history lesson you'll get from Father Andreas.”

“After we eat,” she said. “I'm starving.”

Micah grinned. “Then perhaps you shouldn't skip meals.”

“I was making sure someone else didn't pass out on me.”

“Beside the point. It isn't
do what I say not do what I do
. You medics are meant to lead by example.”

“Then I shall bear that in mind tomorrow on another scintillatingly exciting day of dressing changes.”

Micah opened the door to the town's only restaurant. “It isn't much, but they make sure you have a good time.”

“Micah…” Rosita came running over to him, speaking fast Tiampian.

As always, he managed to catch most of what she said as she hugged him, but even though he was fluent, Rosita always went too fast even for him. “Yeah, I'm good. This is Jael, the new nurse. She doesn't speak Tiampian.”

Rosita switched to English. “There has been much talk of you.”

“Good or bad?” Jael asked, covering her embarrassment.

“All good. Come, sit.”

Micah rested his hand on Jael's back as they followed Rosita across the room to the best table. He wasn't sure what they'd done to deserve this but wasn't going to argue. He pulled a chair out for Jael, then sat opposite.

“What can I get you to drink?”

“Something cold,” Jael said.

“I get you some wine,” Rosita said, turning to leave.

“Just iced water,” Micah said quickly. “For both of us, please.”

Jael raised an eyebrow. “Water?”

“Bottled and it comes sealed,” he explained. “Although you're gonna have to drink the water at some point.”

She rolled her eyes. “Perhaps.”

He tilted his head. The light caught her eyes, making them sparkle. He'd always thought they were blue, but in this light they appeared almost green. And were those pearls in her ears? Why hadn't he noticed them before now? She looked so different with her hair down, compared to the severe way she pulled it back and fastened it up when she was working.

How could he not have noticed how pretty she was before now?

Easy—he'd never allowed himself to think of her as a woman until now. Never allowed himself to see her as anything other than a nuisance and a colleague.

“What are you thinking?”

“Me?” He shook himself. She'd think him a right idiot if he kept this up. She'd declare him away with the fairies or something.

“Yeah, you spaced out again.”

He shoved his glasses back upon his nose. “I was wondering what a beautiful woman like you was doing here with a down-trodden, lowlife—”

“Handsome, talented pilot like you,” she finished.

Micah frowned.

Jael pressed her fingertips to the tip of her nose and studied him over the top of them, her intense gaze making him shift uncomfortably. “You really don't have a very high opinion of yourself, do you? I reckon you hide behind that arrogance of yours.”

“You know why,” he said, immediately putting up the shields and going on the defensive. “It's better that way.” He cleared his throat as the waiter appeared with their drinks. He handed the menu over. “Chicken all right with you, Jael?”

“Yeah, that's fine.”

Micah ordered rapidly for the two of them. As the waiter left he broke the seal on his bottle of water. “You really should start speaking the local dialect. I could teach you if you like.”

“That would be great, thanks.” She opened her bottle. “So who else is at home?”

“No one. Mum died years ago. This is home now. I haven't been back to England in years. Rach, that's my sister, lives in Detroit…oh, must be six or seven years now. She met an American through work and moved over there. I don't see her much.”

“Was she…” Jael broke off.

Micah read between the lines. “No, he never touched her. I made sure of that.” He sipped his water. “She's in finance. Or she was before the kids came along. They have six and one on the way.”

Jael's eyes widened. “Six kids in six years?”

Micah chuckled. “Three sets of twins.”

“What about you?”

“No husband and no kids.” He winked.

“That's not what I meant and you know it.” She laughed. “Do you want them?”

“A husband or kids? I've always said never to the husband, actually.” He shook his head and laughed with her. For some reason discussing this with her was easy. But then she knew the worst about him and she was still here. But now she'd brought up the subject of marriage, why did part of him long for something he'd always said no to? “Seriously, wife and kids have never been part of my game plan. For a start no one would ever want me.”

“Why ever not?”

“I'm proud, arrogant, selfish, and opinionated. I carry too much baggage.” He ticked off on his fingers as he listed the reasons. “Besides, there is no guarantee I'm not going to turn out like my father.”

“You forget stubborn.”

He straightened in his seat, not expecting that one. “I'm sorry?”

“If you're going to list all your faults you forgot a couple. You're stubborn and you snore. I can hear you through the walls every single night. Sometimes I think I should use a tent peg on you just to get a peaceful night's sleep.” But she laughed and leaned back as the food arrived. “Thank you.” She took a deep breath. “Smells good.”

Micah said grace and picked up his knife and fork. He wasn't at all sure how to take her last comment. “OK,” he said quietly. “And stubborn. But I'm not admitting to the snoring unless you have proof. You could be making it up.” He pointed his fork across the table. “And no, you cannot sneak into my room tonight and video me on your phone to prove it.”

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